Monica didn't move.
She just stood there, holding Rayyan's phone to her ear, waiting for Lisa to speak again.
But the line went dead.
Call ended.
Lisa had hung up.
Monica slowly lowered the phone, her expression unreadable. Rayyan's heart pounded so hard it felt like it might split open.
"M–Monica… I can explain—"
But Monica turned to him with a gentle, surprisingly calm smile.
"Rayyan," she said softly, "relax. I'm just kidding with her."
Rayyan blinked. "Kidding…?"
She nodded, placing the phone back into Rayyan's trembling hand.
"That's the only way she'll stop disturbing you. If she thinks someone else is… closer to you, she'll back off."
Her voice remained light, as if nothing had happened.
But Rayyan heard it. That slight tremor under her sentence. A truth she wrapped in a joke so he wouldn't feel pressured.
"Monica, I—"
She cut him off with a tired smile.
"I want to sleep. You too. Go rest, Rayyan. We'll talk in the morning."
She turned and walked toward her bedroom, her steps weak but her posture composed.
Rayyan stood frozen, the moment replaying again and again in his head.
If you're his girlfriend… then who am I?
What did she mean?
Did she really say it only to stop Lisa?
Or…
Was she trying to tell him something hidden between the lines?
Rayyan finally forced himself into the study room. He lay on the small bed but his eyes refused to close.
He stared at the ceiling.
Thinking.
About Lisa's words.About Monica's reaction.About Ayden… and everything tangled between them.
Why did Lisa call me her boyfriend?She knows she's Ayden's girlfriend… why create drama now?Is she trying to use me to trigger Monica? Or Ayden?Oh God… why am I in the middle of this mess…
Rayyan covered his face with both hands.
I need to focus. My finals are coming. I can't let this crush me.
He took a deep breath.
Then another.
Slowly, his mother's voice came back to him:
"Rayyan… no matter how hard the world becomes, you stay calm. You stay kind. That is who you are."
He held on to that voice like a lifeline.
Finally, exhaustion pulled him under.He set an alarm for 3 a.m.
And drifted into a shallow sleep.
3:00 A.M. — A Quiet Care
The alarm rang sharply.
Rayyan sat up instantly, heart racing.He grabbed a small towel and filled a bowl with cool water from the kitchen sink.Then he walked quietly to Monica's room.
The door was slightly open.
He peeked inside.
Monica lay curled under the blanket, her breathing uneven.
Rayyan stepped in and gently placed his palm on her forehead.
His chest tightened.
Her fever was worse.
"Monica…" he whispered, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Wake up. Your fever is up again."
She stirred and opened her eyes halfway.
"Rayyan…?"
He helped her sit up slowly.
"Take your medicine first."
She swallowed it obediently, trusting him without question.
Then Rayyan folded the wet towel and placed it gently on her forehead. The sight made something ache deep inside him.
He remembered how his mother would sit beside him on the floor, cooling his fever through the night, whispering prayers under her breath.
He remembered his father carrying neighbors' children to the clinic for free, always helping quietly, without seeking anything in return.
Rayyan exhaled.
This is the love I grew up with…This is the only way I know how to care.
"Rayyan…" Monica whispered weakly. "Go sleep… I'll be okay."
"No," he said gently, adjusting the towel again. "I'll stay here. Just rest."
He lay down on the floor beside her bed, close enough to hear her breathing.
The cold tiles pressed against his back, but he didn't mind.
Not tonight.
Slowly, Monica drifted back to sleep.Rayyan stayed awake for a few more minutes, watching her breathing steady.
Then he whispered,
"Please get better…"
And finally closed his eyes.
Sunrise
Sunlight slipped through the curtains, brushing against Rayyan's face.
He blinked awake, body stiff from the cold floor.
A shadow moved beside him.
"Rayyan…?" Monica whispered.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hair messy, eyes still tired—but her fever had broken.
She looked down at him—at the boy asleep on the cold floor for her sake.
Her heart clenched.
"Rayyan… why are you on the floor? There are so many rooms here. So many beds. Why didn't you sleep properly?"
Rayyan sat up slowly, rubbing his stiff neck.
"Your fever came up last night. I was worried, so I stayed here to check on you."
She frowned.
"Yes, but… why the floor? You'll fall sick too."
Rayyan smiled softly.
"I'm used to it. My house doesn't have beds like yours, Monica. The floor is normal for me. Don't worry."
Her chest tightened—a feeling she didn't know how to name.
"But… Rayyan…" she whispered, "why do you care for me this much?"
He looked at her, eyes warm.
"Monica… what I'm doing for you is not even ten percent of what you've done for me. You helped me in ways I can never repay."
She didn't answer.She just looked away, her cheeks turning pink.
Rayyan checked her temperature one last time.
"How are you feeling now?"
"Much better," she said. "Thanks to you, Rayyan. You're… very kind."
They got ready slowly.
Rayyan wanted her to rest, but Monica insisted on going to college.
"I feel fine," she said. "You're with me. So I don't have to worry."
Her words warmed him and scared him at the same time.
He didn't know how to respond.
On the Way to College
Rayyan sat quietly in the passenger seat, his mind heavy.
Lisa's phone call haunted him.
What was she planning?Why bring Ayden into this mess?Will Ayden misunderstand?What if this destroys their friendship?
Monica glanced at him.
"Don't worry about Lisa," she said softly. "I'll handle it."
"No, Monica… maybe I should talk to her. I don't know why she acted like that. And if Ayden finds out—"
"We'll figure it out," she said. "Together."
Rayyan nodded but the knot in his chest didn't loosen.
At College
Both walked into the campus café after class.
Lisa was there.
Rayyan immediately looked away—but Monica nudged him gently.
"Come. Let's sort this out."
They walked to Lisa's table.
Lisa looked up—and froze.
Monica sat opposite her, calm and composed. Rayyan sat beside Monica.
"What happened yesterday?" Monica asked. "We need to talk before this gets worse."
Lisa lowered her head.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered. "It was my mistake. I was desperate. I needed money. I felt angry when Rayyan didn't help me… and then you gave me money instead. I got jealous."
She wiped her tears.
"But thank you… that money helped me."
Monica nodded.
"If you needed help, you could've just told me. Or anyone. We're classmates—we look out for each other."
Lisa bit her lip."I… I also have family problems. I've been stressed. I skipped classes because of it."
Monica softened.
"Then you should talk to Ayden. He's your boyfriend. He cares about you. Don't hide things from him."
Lisa swallowed.
"You're right."
Monica continued:
"And remember—don't let jealousy destroy your studies… or your relationship. We're all here to help each other."
Rayyan stayed quiet, relieved the tension was dissolving.
Lisa looked at him briefly—an unreadable expression in her eyes.
Then she said something neither of them expected.
"Rayyan… there's something you need to know."
Rayyan stiffened.
Monica frowned.
"What is it?" she asked.
Lisa took a shaky breath.
"I didn't call you last night because of jealousy.I called because… something happened at home."
Rayyan and Monica exchanged a look.
Lisa continued, voice breaking:
"And Rayyan… it involves my mother."
Rayyan's blood ran cold.
Monica's eyes widened.
Lisa looked up, tears falling.
"I didn't know how to tell you… but something bad happened."
Rayyan's heart stopped.